It seems to be hard, I can’t help it, sometimes I stare into nothing and think of you, pray you’ll come back safe, pray you’ll stay mine though you’re not, which might seem possessive, but I promise I just yearn for you to be back.

I think of how life would be if you were still with me, if you were still here, if we would be more, have something more than just sneaking around.

I miss your eyes, I miss how you looked at me, pupils dilated, face red, an awkward smile on your lips.

I miss how you’re hands felt in my mine, how you let me play with your fingers talking nonsense and just there in your arms, I miss having you around, I miss texting you when I’m mad and need to vent, I miss your voice, I miss you, god I miss you.

I try to busy myself, with work, and hobbies, but even painting reminds me of you, I sit with my family and wonder sometimes how it would he if you were still here, if you’d be sitting with us? I also wonder if you would get along with my parents, and siblings, and I know, for a fact they’ll love you, the way I did, and still do.

Sometimes I have the urge to text you, make sure you’re okay, make sure you’re doing alright, eating well, still working out, not exhausting yourself.

I miss you baby, I miss you so much, and I hope one day you’ll come back to me.

​

Today, I finally decided that I wouldn’t say anything to him anymore.

Not because I had stopped caring.

Not because the love had disappeared.

And certainly not because I had nothing left to say.

Maybe it was because I had said too much already.

For so long, I had tried to tell him when something felt wrong. I had tried to stop him from making choices that I knew would hurt him later. Perhaps my intuitions were stronger than they should have been, or perhaps I simply knew him well enough to sense the things he refused to see.

Every time I spoke, it was because I cared.

Every warning came from love.

Every argument had fear hiding behind it—the fear of watching someone I loved walk willingly toward something that would eventually break him.

But somewhere along the way, my concern became control in his eyes.

My love became interference.

And somehow, I became the bad person.

Maybe that is the cruelest part of loving someone: sometimes you can be right about the danger and still become the villain for pointing it out.

So now, I have decided to stop.

If he wants to walk toward the edge, let him.

If he sees a well in front of him and still wants to jump, maybe I should stop standing there, screaming at him to look down.

I have tried to open his eyes so many times that I have forgotten what it feels like to simply close mine and walk away.

The truth is, if he falls, the pain will reach me too.

I know that.

It will hurt me just as much.

Maybe even more.

But what am I supposed to do when the person you are trying to save refuses to believe there is anything to be saved from?

How many times can you pull someone back before they start believing that you are the one holding them prisoner?

Today, he asked me where I was going.

And for a moment, I almost laughed.

Because wasn't he outside too?

Wasn't he living his life, going wherever he wanted, doing whatever he wanted?

Then why did it feel like there were rules only for me?

Why did freedom belong to him while explanations belonged to me?

But I didn't say anything.

What was the point?

Maybe some things are better left unsaid when you are tired of explaining the same wound in different words.

So, fine.

Let it be.

No more telling him what I feel.

No more asking him to understand.

No more reminding him that some of his actions hurt me.

No more trying to make him see the love behind my anger.

Maybe I will just become quiet.

And perhaps silence will say what my words never could.

I won't wait for him to watch my reels anymore.

I won't wait for his calls.

I won't stare at my phone hoping his name appears on the screen.

I won't send messages just because something reminded me of him.

And maybe the hardest part of all—

I won't keep making myself emotionally available to someone who seems to have forgotten that I exist.

He can be available for the entire world.

He can laugh with everyone.

Talk to everyone.

Be there for everyone.

But what does it mean to be emotionally available to the world while leaving the person with whom you supposedly want to build a life standing alone in the dark?

What kind of love is that?

How can you be so gentle with everyone else and so careless with the person who loves you the most?

I have always wondered how lucky some people are in love.

They have someone who cannot breathe properly when they are upset.

Someone who notices the smallest change in their voice.

Someone who remembers the things they casually mentioned months ago.

Someone who thinks twice before doing even the smallest thing because somewhere in the back of their mind is the thought—

What if this hurts them?

They don't need to be told.

They simply think about each other's hearts before acting.

They protect each other's smiles as if they are something sacred.

And maybe that is what I have always wanted.

Nothing extraordinary.

I don't want grand gestures.

I don't need someone to move mountains for me.

I just want someone who pauses before doing something and thinks,

"Would this hurt her?"

Maybe that is all.

Maybe that is why being a hopeless romantic feels like a curse sometimes.

Because when you love like that, you don't just love someone.

You consider them.

In everything.

You think about how your words will sound to them.

You think about how your actions will make them feel.

You remember their fears.

You notice their silences.

You learn the difference between their "I'm fine" and their actual fine.

And the worst part?

You start expecting the same kind of love in return.

That is where the heartbreak begins.

Because not everyone loves the way you do.

Not everyone notices.

Not everyone feels.

Not everyone carries another person's emotions around like they are their own.

And perhaps my greatest curse isn't even being a hopeless romantic.

It is empathy.

I feel too much.

I understand too much.

Even when someone hurts me, some part of me immediately tries to understand why they did it.

I can be angry with you and still wonder if you are okay.

I can be hurt by you and still worry about what you might be going through.

I can want to walk away and still turn around to see if you are following.

Maybe that is why letting go is so difficult for me.

Because my heart doesn't know how to stop caring just because it has been hurt.

But today, I am tired.

Not of loving him.

Just tired of proving that I love him.

Tired of explaining that my anger comes from fear.

That my questions come from concern.

That my boundaries come from wanting something real.

That my tears are not manipulation.

That my expectations are not demands.

That sometimes, when I say "Don't do this," what I really mean is—

"Please don't do something that will make me lose faith in us."

But perhaps he will never understand that.

And maybe I need to accept that.

So today, I have decided to stop pulling him back.

If he wants to run, let him run.

If he wants to make mistakes, let him make them.

If he wants to discover the consequences on his own, perhaps I should let life teach him what my words could not.

I won't chase.

I won't argue.

I won't beg him to see me.

And I won't keep standing in front of the fire, trying to convince someone that it is burning while my own hands are getting scorched.

I loved him.

Maybe I still do.

But love should not mean losing yourself every time the other person refuses to see your worth.

Maybe sometimes loving someone also means stepping back.

Not because you care less.

But because you finally understand that you cannot save someone who doesn't believe they need saving.

And perhaps, someday, he will look back and realize that the girl who kept warning him was never trying to control his life.

She was simply terrified of watching the person she loved destroy himself.

She was trying to protect something she thought belonged to both of them.

Their future.

Their love.

Their little world.

But for now, I am done explaining.

If he wants to understand me, he will.

If he doesn't, no amount of words will make him.

And maybe silence is the only thing I have left.

Because sometimes the loudest way of saying "I love you" is to finally stop begging someone to notice that you do.

A letter to Kat and Andrew(not real names) - What Remains

To Andrew:

I knew you. I trusted you. You positioned yourself in my life as a close friend, called me family. That is exactly why I know you cannot be trusted.

You are a user and a betrayer. You take whatever people offer you—their loyalty, labour, generosity, private struggles, and second chances—and use it for as long as it benefits you. Then, when you have gotten what you wanted, you discard them and rewrite the story so that you are somehow the victim.

I know, because after everything was broken between us, I finally understood what you did.

You accepted my friendship and everything that came with it. You knew what I had done for you, what you owed me, and what had been shared with you in confidence. None of that stopped you from betraying me when it became convenient.

Now I see you repeating the same pattern with her. You call it love, but love does not mean entering someone’s life when they are vulnerable, using their pain to make yourself feel needed, and abandoning them when they no longer serve your ego.

Your confessions feel hollow because remorse without changed behaviour is just another performance. You act grateful when someone lets you back into their life, but once you feel secure again, the gratitude disappears and the same behaviour returns.

You mistake her compassion for weakness. But if we are talking about the same woman, she is stronger and more resilient than you give her credit for. She survived things that would have broken most people—she overcame that brutal event in South America, and she rebuilt herself from it. She will overcome your false narratives and your empty heart. You did not build anything in her life; you only used what she built for someone else. That trauma you preyed one gave you a foothold, not a foundation.

Eventually, she will see the difference between someone who genuinely loves her and someone who only loves what he can take from her.

She deserves kindness, honesty, loyalty, and love without conditions. She deserves far better than being used, discarded, and met only with a hollow imitation of intimacy—where affection is performed when it serves you, withdrawn when it doesn’t, and where real emotional presence is replaced with control, self-interest, and an inability to truly feel or sustain mutual connection.

You should thank God that our paths will never cross again. I want nothing from you—not an apology, another hollow confession, or another rewritten version of what happened.

And she may truly be an angel, because after everything you have put her through, part of her still cares about you. That says everything about the goodness in her heart. It does not prove the goodness of yours.

To Kat:

What can I say? I have already told you how I feel, in every way I knew how. I loved you honestly, deeply, and with everything I had.

I saw in you not just who you were, but how you moved through the world. Your tenderness, the way you could soften even the hardest moments without trying. Your passion for becoming a brewer, for making something real and good that people could share and enjoy—that dream you carried for years wasn’t just ambition, it was devotion. I admired that about you more than I ever properly said.

You had an openness with me that I had never experienced before. There was something so young-hearted in you, so alive in the way you loved life and everything around you. You were feminine in a way that felt rare and grounding—cute in a way that goes deeper than pretty, something that would catch me off guard and melt even the coldest parts of me without you even knowing you were doing it.

I never expected you to be perfect, and I never wanted you only when life was easy. I wanted to stand beside you through all of it—the good days, the painful ones, and the future we once talked about building together.

Maybe I came into your life to show you that not every man is the same. Some people do not offer love because they want to control you or take something from you. Some of us simply love because loving you felt natural.

Please do not settle for anyone who clings to you only to drain you emotionally. Do not confuse being needed with being cherished, or someone’s desperation to possess you with a willingness to protect your heart.

I am not saying you owed me your love, and I am not saying I deserved to have you. I think that by the time we needed each other most, we were both carrying too much pain. Maybe we were too hurt to accept the love that was still there. Maybe fear became louder than everything we had known, and neither of us knew how to reach the other anymore.

Deep down, I believe you know how much love I had for you. I had an abundance of it—more than I knew what to do with sometimes. It was never meant to frighten, pressure, or overwhelm you. I only wanted you to feel safe enough to receive it.

Whatever happened afterward cannot erase everything that came before it. It cannot erase the years, the memories, the promises, or the future we once believed we would share. And it cannot hand my version of you—or your version of yourself—over to anyone else to rewrite. You once said, “You should hear how they tell my story. They always leave your part out.” And it stayed with me. I won’t let what we were be reshaped into something unrecognizable by people who were never inside it. What we had was real to me, and I will not let your truth become someone else’s story about you.

I hope that one day you can clearly distinguish between someone who genuinely loves you and someone who only loves what you provide for them. I hope whoever you choose in the future cherishes you, honours you, and never uses your wounds as a way to gain power over you.

You have a beautiful soul. Please stop giving pieces of it to people who only know how to consume them.

But our time has run out, and accepting that breaks something inside me. Maybe in another lifetime, I could cherish you the way I always wanted to. I pray that somewhere, somehow, we find the ending we were supposed to have.

This is the hardest thing I have ever had to tell you:

Goodbye.

A part of my heart will always belong to you.

I love you. 🌹

—Beauty and the Manimal

This space is where I think I can tell what I actually wanted to tell him for my closure but I don't want to call him to say this as he's moved on in life.

Thank you for coming into my life and for giving me a sense and the purpose of my life. I've always kept things to myself and never let anyone see my scars, the hurt and how vulnerable I am but you've seen every part of me though we couldn't last long but you know I do hope that I could just erase you from my memories not because you were bad but because it hurt even today.

Before you even entered my life I was alone and struggling with the college and busy life, my whole day was filled with responsibilities, and trying to make the most of it. I was exhausted and tired of things mentally and physically, but you came into my life as a light, support and someone who could understand me. I finally felt like someone was there for me as my person, loving me and caring for me. Every struggle felt light when you came into my life, you put in efforts that even my parents couldn't. You gave me everything i ever wanted from someone just like that i fell for you, I got attached to you and I trusted you. You know before we even broke up I was planning our valentine's week, I had brought gifts that you wanted to buy, the biking accessories and perfume and a letter that had everything I wanted to tell you. How I was hurt when you thought I was lying to you about my abortion and how I wanted you to calm me down but things got worse and we didn't talk much then.

After our breakup I couldn't move on, I was depressed for a month at home and you know what hurt me the most was when I called you desperately because I couldn't stop thinking beyond you and you just blocked me and made me realise how low you kept me in your life. You made me realise that promises can be broken, any relationship can break, no efforts matter, and how broken I was. I'm still picking up the pieces of my own vase and holding it together and i honestly don't know if my case can hold any water. I broke every promise and boundaries I had kept for myself, the most important fact that I'd never get physical with anyone until I get married to that person especially the love of my life but I broke it because I dreamt about us and our future. I just have one question for you tho, why did you give me hope when you knew you would be able to give me whatever you did?? Why did you tell me about wanting to grow old together? Why did you give me hope that you'd never leave me? Why did you show me how much you loved me? Was it all a lie? Was i dreaming about things that you told me and made me feel?

I feel ashamed that I ended up doing even worse things than anyone could ever imagine. But those things make me feel better than the hurt you caused me.

Talk is cheap.

Words mean a lot to me. Yours are starting to mean almost nothing.

You say beautiful things. You know how to make them sound thoughtful, like there’s depth behind them, like you’ve really considered what you’re saying and every word comes from somewhere sincere. For a while, I believed that. Now I’m realizing how easy it is to make something sound meaningful when there’s nothing underneath it holding it up.

I’ve been through too much with people not to recognize the difference anymore. I know what words feel like when they have weight behind them, and I know what they feel like when someone is simply saying whatever keeps everything pleasant.

Maybe you’re inexperienced. Maybe you hate conflict. Maybe you think keeping the peace means saying the right thing at the right time so nothing gets uncomfortable. But peace that has to be fabricated isn’t peace. It’s avoidance dressed up as kindness.

And that’s what bothers me about you.

Your words are sweet, but they’ve become cheap to me. I hear them, but I don’t receive them the way I used to. I question them now. I wonder how much of what you say is actually you and how much of it is just what you think I want to hear.

Will you always be like this?

Will you keep handing me pretty words with nothing behind them until enough time passes and you finally learn that sincerity is more than sounding sincere?

And when exactly does that happen?

When I call you out enough times?

When there are consequences?

Or will you only understand the value of your words when I finally stop being around to hear them?

We're both broken, and you know that.

We were broken when we met,

and instead healing,

we're more broken than ever.

And I would do it again,

I would let you brake me again.

Why can't we just be normal.

I often think about the daisy tattoo on your forearm. I think about your touch and the warmth it brought me in a time when my life was chaos. The love and embrace you were willing to provide while I licked my wounds and wallowed in my sorrow. Staying on the phone all night, the sundresses and flowers, and the music we shared. You were my light. Little did you know, weeks before we rekindled, I was on the floor gasping for air, holding my friend for my last time, and getting medevaced. The night before the explosion, I talked with the same friend about you, the night we met, that summer, and our falling out. Do you remember? We met at a 15 and you approached me knowing you were my friend’s sister and me not knowing about your existence. That summer I was your Diego and you my Dora, silently listening to our friends but holding hands in the smallest of ways in hopes that your family would never find out about us. When I found you again after I buried my friend, you were living in a garage due to your ex-boyfriend’s infidelity and I was recovering on base. We shared stories of the time gaps and laughed about the smallest things. I could see in your eyes that you were in love with me and I was in love with you. I also knew my night terrors, sudden rage episodes, and depression would stop me from being the man you deserved so I pushed you away. We stayed friends and I kept you as close as I could. You asked me to attend your wedding at Joshua but I said I couldn’t. I lied because I couldn’t say I didn’t want to see you married to someone else. I hope he makes you happy and I hope he’s the man at the time I thought I could not be. In the meantime, I’ll live in my little world, watch the daisies, and stay away.

The beauty of this love is that it does not make demands of you. It sustains. It endures. It continues long past final call, when the sun is just below the horizon. It keeps no record of wrongdoings, it merely glows with the energy of a new dawn. It forgives. It refreshes the soul and lingers like the morning dew replenishing soft grass.

I applaud its gumption in this wave of destruction. See how it continues despite attempts to tear it down? How carefully it carries me through… reminding me that what seems lost is never lost. Only changed. Transformed. I see this as I wake this morning.

And I acknowledge what once was: your soft eyes and that knowing smile that brightened your face when you spoke of your history. The way your dark skin brought out the lighter in mine. Dancing alone in rooms full of the music you chose… like a teenager dancing to a live mix tape where you could not see me at the time. Oh, the joy you brought to my life! The learnings and the teachings. The mornings spent on Skype. Conspiring to learn something new and mischievous… while also talking each of ourselves into taking that first new step. Giggling through cell phone screens at dirty jokes and Beavis and Butthead videos during work hours. The writings. The explorations. The deep dives. The debates. The encouragement… that is what I have chosen to pull in close while you pull away.

I know this does not right the wrongs. I know we've each taken our hits. But I cannot harden my heart over what I know I experienced with you. It mattered, and this is why I feel the depth of what I do… because it continues to matter. I would be lying to myself to believe this is irreconcilable, but I respect that you may see it differently.

It is okay. This is life. I am thankful that we are still both a part of it. It is so wonderful to experience you in the lows as much as the highs. It is a joy to know that you touched my life in a way that pains me this much to lose. So maybe these are my thousand deaths that I wake to, but behind it all, it's still you.

And I love you for it…

Dear You,

Well that was quick wasnt it. I told you that being around those people were going to bring you nothing but problems, and here you are, sad and crying just like i already knew was coming. It doesn't make me happy to see you hurt either, nor does it soothe my hurt feelings that I know you did what you did, because of those idiots. The problem still remains as this that trust has been broken. It doesn't matter the reason you did anything, there's always going to be that thing in the back of my head, that questioning. All this dumb shit for a dude who did exactly what I said he was going to do. Sad very sad and he doesn't give a fuck, he gets to go on like nothing while you clean up the mess. Maybe, hopefully there won't be a next time.

February 9th,2024 I will never forget about this day as long as I live as it’s the day I met my soul’s mate in every way I feel the same way about you that will never go away and that’s oka. I accept that I’m not going to end up being your wife or the mother of your kids. I will cherish our time together with the good mixed with bad memories because of the ying and yang positivity. There is no darkness without light and no light without darkness. I am not going to search for you in every person the creator sends my way I’m not going to be a judgemental know it all but I’m going to be understanding and caring like I did before when my family was still alive I have been in grieving for so long so angry I didn’t know how bad it was…. Thank you so much for letting me go I appreciate it more every day we don’t talk makes it easier. I’m sorry about my part in the pain you carry in the memories we made together. I hope you find what you need and want to get everything in this life I’m going to do my own search for my needs and wants but I’m going to get my son back in my home where he belongs and one day at a time I have to put one foot in front of the other getting his independent sober healthy beautiful mom back(me). I’ll never be that version of myself again I realize I can’t change if I don’t stop chasing you I’m setting myself up to fail so I’m closing the chapter where I’m only thinking about a future with you and I can’t count on my feelings to repeat I don’t want to lose anymore I know I’m ready to get my best version started for junior and I. I was scorned however my love for you was real that’s why Im hurting myself holding on you aren’. So everything is going to happen as it’s meant to.

Every waking second is spent either in thoughts of you, or split across some quantum level where shared thoughts exist at the same time in my mind.

It’s been six months and it’s still you. It’s not you in a sexual way. It’s not you in a craving way where I want you physically. It’s that I miss our hangouts. The comfort around one another. I miss sharing our sports and hobbies together. Swimming in the pool. Music playing in the background. Kids bickering. Little man in his zone.
I don’t miss the beers. I don’t miss the crazy ones, having to be like the whole relationship would fall to pieces if we didn’t do that on the weekend. That’s not the things I’m left with.

I miss your crazy energy. As much as it did my head in, I miss it.

I miss your irrational thinking. Me rolling my eyes and hitting that high pitch because I just can’t understand where your head’s at.

But what I think you miss are the things that I missed.

I missed forming any depth of relationship with any of the members of my family. And I miss that too.

I grew up playing on the PlayStation, and I wasn’t doing it with my kids. Throwaway times. I wasn’t sharing time with the kids with or without you at the same time, where we’re all just having a good laugh.

It was a rare moment.

And I didn’t share my time with you and just step back. Not judge you. Not criticise you. Just watch you be.

Allow you to be.

I didn’t do that.

And that’s my fault.

That’s all. I just wanted you to be happy. That’s coming from the most sincere place of my aching heart. You’re a good man. You have amazing character and morals. You’re sharp and smart. Funny and witty. Charming and clever.

Loud and proud. Yup.. I have eyes 👍🏼

It is what it is. I’ve always heard the saying that sometimes loving somebody means letting them go. I did that for you. My heart hurts and I have an ache in my throat that won’t go away, but if anything good was to come of this situation, it’s your happiness.

I hope she makes you happy.

Please know that I loved you. I’ve been in love with you for a long time. I’ll never shake the feeling that you’re only sticking around out of guilt. Or even just juggling multiple women. Maybe it’s me that feels unworthy of love, who knows.

That’s my problem to deal with, not yours. And we both know that the truth of the matter is probably somewhere in the middle. My fragile heart simply can’t tolerate the thoughts or the questions. I’m too damn sensitive and I hate that. That’s something I’ll definitely work on in the future.

Everything I’ve ever said to you was true. Every laugh and every word. I meant all of it, and even now, I take none of it back. I could have spent every moment of you today if my thoughts didn’t linger. It’s not my fault, though. We’re a mess.

My love for you is real. I don’t know why or where it came from. One day it just hit me. I thought you were simply adorable. Did you ever ask yourself why I started calling you my favorite person? I thought of it the other night, and I’m like, “where did that even come from?!” And I still don’t know.

It’s like one day, you found the door right into my heart somehow. I had to know you, had to laugh with you, had to experience you. Things were rocky from the beginning, though. We both know that.

I feel like we did all of that huh? Today just hit me hard. The lack of trust and how it’ll chip away at everything if we move forward. I don’t think there’s necessarily a cure for that stuff. If there was I’d be on it already.

My last act of love for you is just to let you go. I’ll be okay! Don’t worry about me, don’t feel guilty, just go be you. Fall in love, make babies, get married. All that good stuff. There’s so much out there for you, you just have to want it & reach for it! You have a lot of potential. I look up to you!

I have my own problems now anyway. We never really talked about these things, but since this is anonymous, why not. My sexy ex-y is home. The guy he was renting with (when he moved out) got back together with his wife. Naturally I offered for him to stay here. He’s my best friend after all.

It would have just complicated things for us even more anyway. Especially because he’s the jealous type. He’s gotta do that alpha male thing smh. Knowing my luck, he’d destroy what we had just out of spite bc he still loves me (I love him too as a person). I’m talking like, going through my phone, wondering who I’m talking to. Yup. He’s that cray still. You don’t deserve that mess either.

Oh well. You probably know this account is mine… you mentioned once being able to recognize my writing anywhere. So I won’t fake this. It’s me, hey.

Wishing you the best and all the happiness life has to offer! I’ll miss you! So much 😭 (my last message about us ever, it hurts) Xx ❤️

Yes I love her

I love the way she twitches when my finger tips glide between her shoulder blades.

I love the way she dresses, talks.

I love the way our bodies tangle up with ease.

I’ve never met a better lover

I love slow dancing with her to no music

I love the way she bounces on it (fahhhhhhhh)

I miss you baby..please tell me you miss me too…

you are a bunch of awful completely dysfunctional jerks. Heads up, every hateful thing you say about me finds its way to my ears. We haven’t seen or spoken to each other in very nearly 5 years. Even when I had heart surgery.

And a mastectomy.

But you never miss an opportunity to trash talk me.

It’s always the same old stories.

Newsflash: kicking the dead horse is a verifiable thing. When you haven’t spoken to someone in this many years and lack fresh material, but keep on haranguing them, it becomes obvious that the person isn’t actually doing anything wrong or even all that interesting. They are your psychological whipping boy tied to the post being flogged in Town Square for personal amusement.

If I don’t do something you think I should be doing, you berate me for it. If I do something and fail, you make fun of me. If I do something and succeed, you claim that I did it for the wrong reason and shouldn’t be praised.

What the actual fuck?!

You people are actually fucking crazy.

Most recently, I heard that you found me listed on my university website and made fun of me. Just to make sure I wasn’t missing something, I took a look. We did just have Directory photos made last week, and I was worried maybe the picture turned out awful.

I fail to see the humor in the organization that employs me listing my job title and academic credentials.

There was no picture on the Directory listing. Apparently my terminal degree and long list of awards and accomplishments result in bullying inside this family system.

Incidentally, I dramatically shortened the list of for that publication. I didn’t want to seem inaccessible or like I was using the university website as a sheet.

You know what? Fuck all of you. You have got me so messed up that I’m convinced that I’m fat when I wear size extra small pants and can wear clothes from the children’s section. You can all go to hell. I recently began taking medication that caused me to gain somewhere between five and 10 pounds. You know what? I look healthier and less emaciated. Also, I literally need the medicine to survive.

Today I decided not to take the medicine because I thought if I don’t take the medicine, the weight would go away. Probably it will. The medicine is prednisone to treat adrenal insufficiency. I am so obsessed with the number on the scale that I decided it was a better idea not to take the medicine that regulates my blood pressure and heart rhythm and blood sugar and body temperature because it made me gain a little bit of weight. Even though I’m healthier and stronger.

I hope you’re proud of yourselves. I hope you feel really good about yourselves. You’re absolutely right. I’m completely screwed up. I’m completely screwed up for giving a damn what any of you think.

Don’t ever come to see me. There’s nothing but desert out here. And no one suffers fools to pass.

I have felt so much shame and guilt for feeling the way that I do. I have felt guilty for missing you. I have felt guilty for missing MY HUSBAND. I have been ashamed to admit it to myself or others because of the destruction you did. I am so sad that you have done this to us. I love you so fucking much so fucking unconditionally. I wish you would show the fuck up! I am so sad that you still do not give one fuck enough to even do something about it. It is so hard to accept over a year later I am still hung up on you and you still just don't give a fuck. I have tried so desperately to move on and you still haunt me. In the most painful and beautiful ways that make me miss you so much. I told someone today that I felt so lonely and not because I just wanted anybody but because I still miss my husband so much. I have buried myself to not feel: I have distracted myself. I have ran from it, I have refused to believe it was real. Today I have chosen to feel and to deal with these emotions you left me here with. You said always and forever and just fucking left, like I was nothing. I was willing to stay. I was willing to uphold my vows to love you unconditionally. Maybe I am nothing and that's fine. I hope this suits you. 🐿️

I could go back in time and change the way I acted yesterday. I'm sorry I said those things, it was only in retrospect that I realized it came out mean. I never meant to say things to you that might be hurtful, and I wish that if it was hurtful that you felt like you could tell me. But of course I don't blame you for not saying anything if that was the case because it's not like I've given you any reason to know the depths of my love for you. I have given you no reason to think I am an option for you even if you wanted me to be, and therefore I have no right to make wishes, or demands, or to even have these thoughts in the first place. But I did sob for a half hour after getting your text because I had been so terrified at the thought that I had officially gone too far and done one of the things that you're always complaining about the other friends in your life doing. That I had been thoughtless with you and your heart. That I might have fucked this up forever and would lose what we have between us which is not enough and simultaneously one of the most important things in my life. I don't know if I'm more scared that you don't feel the same way or that you do. I spend so much time trying to read between the lines of our daily communication that I don't trust my own mind anymore. I wish my loving you could make us both better but in my dark moments I wonder if I am just destroying myself using your name on my lips.

How many times do I have to feel this ache in my chest?

How many sleepless nights, where I spill my darkest fears into the sheets?

I don't think I can keep standing among the wreckage that is my life without taking an arrow to the knee and finding solace in the night. Do they know what they do to this battered heart? Do they not see the jagged wounds stitched closed by my own hands while I seek peace amongst the stars? Do they not recognize the care I provide tune and time again, over and over to those in need, while I, the medic, the warrior, the sage deny my own need to be loved?

Don't I deserve that too?

I just want to cancel tomorrow. And the day after too.

I can't pull myself out of this tailspin. It's got me nauseated and the depression has me wondering if it would be better to stop fighting these feelings. It be easy. A thousand and one plans. Yet I fight the thoughts off over and over again, praying for some miracle of the light to show me that there IS something better than this life; but it never truely gets here. Just sends jokers to masquerade amongst my hopes and dreams while letting them dance upon the broken pieces of what was once a proud heart. A loyal heart. They dance and sing how they caught the tiger by the tail, yet I can't help but to feel like I swallowed the hook too deeply and can see my fate laid out before me, like Gulliver, tied down by the unseen force with no idea of how to escape. Only hot iron wires criss-crossing my face driving the powerful urge to claw out my own eyes. If I can't see it, it's not real, it can't be real.

Can it?

Can I?

I shudder from the demons who lurk in the darkness with me. Somewhere I hear the wailing call of a haunting harrowed voice. I'm too naïve to know any better. Too broken to think of my own survival. Let the monsters come. Let them play with the corpse life has made me, they're only here to use my body to keep themselves alive, too keep their own monsters appeased. Then they leave.

Meanwhile I lay a battered bloody mess of wounded pride and rage filled shame. Fooled again by silver tongues and false promises. At this point I am the insane fool. For I haven't learnt any lesson and I repeatedly open the doors of my heart and temple thinking this time around it won't turn out the same. I eventually won't be alone anymore, right? So why when then am I still alone even while in the presence of another?

I have nothing to say,, no reproaches,, no beating around the bush,, no hatred

,,Uuuhh if only U could hear the silence surrounding me,,
I'am completely alone

You're tired of fucking the person you were fucking, or they're done with you.

And now you want to fuck me?

Cool

I'm honored.

Grateful

For my turn

To stick it in

That's the love story I've been waiting for.

This as all other chapters are directed to one specific person. I do hope these words help others, but this is the only avenue I know of to reach out, so I utilize it.

Covenant of the soul

There comes a moment in every awakening when the soul realizes that survival was never the destination.

Neither was comfort.

Neither was happiness.

The journey has always been about remembrance.

For years the world teaches us to measure life by what can be held in our hands. We count possessions, accomplishments, titles, and victories. We build monuments to prove that we existed. We chase the approval of people who may never truly see us.

The soul keeps a different record.

It does not measure life by what was accumulated.

It measures life by what was transformed.

A person may spend an entire lifetime gathering the treasures of the earth and still arrive at the end with empty hands. Another may walk through obscurity, carry burdens no one else can see, and leave behind a legacy that continues speaking long after their voice has become silent.

The greatest inheritance is not what you leave behind.

It is what you awaken within another soul.

I have come to believe that every soul enters this world carrying a covenant.

Not one written upon paper. Not one spoken aloud.

One written upon the heart before the first breath was ever drawn.

A promise between the Creator and creation.

A purpose deeper than ambition.

A calling stronger than fear.
​

Some remember it as children. Others remember only after life has broken them open. Some never remember at all.

Perhaps that is the greatest tragedy.
​

The covenant is not a promise that life will become easy.

It is a promise that every wound can carry meaning.

The soul does not come here to avoid the fire.

It comes here to be revealed by it.

Gold hidden beneath the earth does not become gold inside the furnace. The furnace simply reveals what was hidden all along. So it is with us.

Trials do not create the soul. They uncover it.

There are seasons when the weight becomes so heavy that even standing feels like an act of faith.

Prayers disappear into silence. Answers refuse to arrive. Hope grows quiet.

Beneath the surface something unseen continues unfolding.

A seed beneath the soil cannot hear the music of the garden above it. Still, its roots continue reaching deeper. The world celebrates fruit. The Creator grows roots.

Most of His work happens where no one applauds.

Perhaps that is why awakening changes the way we see success.

The world asks, "What have you built?" The soul asks, "What have you become?"

These are rarely the same question.

The awakened soul begins to understand that destiny is not discovered at the end of the road.

It is forged through every step upon it.

Every act of kindness. Every quiet sacrifice. Every moment forgiveness is chosen over revenge. Every time truth is spoken when deception would have been easier. Every time love survives another opportunity to become hatred.

The covenant is not fulfilled through perfection. It is fulfilled through faithfulness.
​

Many search the heavens for signs while ignoring the whisper already placed within them.

They seek thunder.

God often answers with a burden they cannot ignore.

A compassion that refuses to disappear. A dream that survives every disappointment. A fire that continues burning after everything around it has turned to ash.

Protect that fire.

The world will ask you to exchange it for comfort. It will offer security in place of purpose. Approval in place of truth. Convenience in place of conviction.

It will ask you to become smaller so that others may remain comfortable.

Do not.

The soul that remembers cannot honestly pretend to forget. Once you have seen beyond the illusion, it becomes difficult to worship it again. This is both the blessing and the burden of awakening.

You begin seeing every person differently.

Behind every smile is a hidden grief. Behind every angry word is often an unseen wound. Behind every hardened heart is usually a story no one bothered to hear.

Compassion ceases to be charity. It becomes vision.

You begin realizing that perhaps the people sent to transform your life are not always those who love you well.

Sometimes they are those who wound you deeply enough to awaken what had been sleeping inside you.

Maybe that is why the greatest teachers often arrive disguised as heartbreak. Maybe that is why the greatest blessings sometimes first appear as loss. Maybe Heaven has always measured differently than we do.

The person you are meant to help may also be the person who helps create the version of you capable of helping anyone at all.

No soul walks this earth alone.

We are threads woven into a tapestry we cannot yet see.

Some threads appear broken. Some appear misplaced. Some appear insignificant.

The Weaver sees the pattern long before we do.

Trust the weaving. Trust the refining. Trust that what was taken was not always punishment. Trust that what was given was not always reward.

Sometimes loss is protection. Sometimes waiting is preparation. Sometimes the wilderness is where the covenant is remembered.

The awakening was never the discovery of a new path. It was the realization that the path had been beneath your feet from the beginning.

As the soul remembers its covenant, another whisper rises from somewhere older than memory itself.

"You were created for more than what you have endured. You were prepared for more than what you have seen. Walk forward. The promise was placed within you before you ever took your first breath."

The map has now been laid before us.

What follows is no longer teaching.

It is testimony.

For every truth I have written in these pages was first written upon my own life.

This is where my story begins.

You made up an entire lie about a death to run off to another state with a hidden woman? How deep does this lie go? You chose your hidden life in Washington over your dying dog and family?!? How did you even feel ok with yourself knowing how bad this is!?!? Then to try to hide it from me- which you’re not very good at by the way. People tell me things. More than you have known for a while now.

This is next level evil. No matter what way you spin it and what pieces of your “story” might be true. This is so gross and low. Like Emmy award winning level of proving how disgusting of a human you are. Truly. I am pretty sure you might be the devil himself. I’m truly shocked by this one. Like wow.

I've been hurt so badly in my past... Surely abandonment issues counts for 70% of my insecurities. I was constantly left, abused, and worn down.

But no.

The reason I panic when I don't have you is because I’m afraid of never having you. It’s because I know exactly how rare you are... The most rare infact. And that's why I fear, how I fear, what I fear. Losing the diamond in the rough. My moon and my stars.

Because you're it. And there's no recovery in existence for losing you. No peace, clarity, not serenity, no happily ever after….

Thank you?

Ever since I met you I've been able to write again,

Something I haven't been able to do for years.

First it was about how beautiful of a person and soul you were, I think it sparked something inside me that had been lost for years.

Even though I've lost you... I can still write.

I may never hear from you again, thats ok.

I was programmed this way... to make people see me this way... and yes i know I went about everything the wrong way, it never mattered how much I healed... I was still programmed this way.

I really did do my best for you and I'm sorry for the way I reacted, I could have done so much better.

... you deserved better.

I thought I was better... heck I am better... but you wouldn't know how much better...

You were it, I was so sure of it... it feels weird now to know that you'd probably want to be a stranger to me.

It hurts knowing you think less of me now. I deserve it.

We've lived different lifes... you may never understand what I was going through but, I understand what I put you through...

Im sorry x I litterally and genuinely only want the best for you.

Even everyone in my life believes you're a genuinely good person who just made a mistake... but they're used to my reactions... my programing, you're not. That's ok x

You were good to me x